When The World Stops Turning
by Medie
Summary: When the unthinkable happens. (Grissom/Sara romance)
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters or concepts of CSI, I'm just  
borrowing.  
  
Category: Sara/Grissom UST, possible romance.  
  
Spoilers: None that I really know of.  
  
Author's Note: This my first CSI fic and I'm apprehensive, writing Grissom   
is a bit of a challenge so be kind.  
  
  
When The World Stops Turning  
by M  
------  
Just an ordinary night, one like any other that had come before; he got home,  
dropped his keys in their usual place, hung his coat on the same hook, did  
all the things he did each night. The routine never wavering.  
  
It was then the knock came.  
  
Opening the door, he was surprised to see his visitor. "Catherine?" A smile  
touched his face but it didn't last. "What is it?"  
  
Catherine Willows drew in a steadying breath. "Gil..." God, she really didn't  
want to have to say it. "It's Sara..."  
  
Around Grissom, the world went a dull, aching grey.  
  
"Sara..."  
  
------  
  
Brass met him in the hallway. He didn't waste time on pleasantries; the look   
on Grissom's face said they weren't welcome anyway. "SUV broadsided her at  
an intersection. Driver abandoned the vehicle, fled on foot. We've got the  
dogs looking for him now." The other man hurried to keep up as the CSI's   
stride didn't slacken. "Her condition's critical, they just brought her out  
of surgery."  
  
"Who's working the case?" Was his only question as Grissom had barely even   
registered what the other man had been saying.  
  
"Catherine managed to convince the higher ups to let her, Nick and Warrick   
take it." The detective forced a smile. "They were driving everyone around   
here crazy."  
  
"Where is she?"  
  
"Recovery."  
  
With barely a nod, Grissom stalked in that direction, not even acknowledging  
the presence of the staff as he passed the nurses' station.   
  
A nurse called out a protest and began to chase him but Brass intercepted   
her and, with a murmured explanation, sent her back to her seat before   
following along behind his friend.  
  
The whole interaction was irrelevant to the cause of it. He stood at the door  
to the recovery room, a stricken expression on his ordinarily inscrutable  
features.   
  
"Sara..."  
  
TBC 


	2. Chapter 2

------  
  
He'd learned with Holly how heartrending it was to see one of your people   
injured - lying near death - and being unable to do anything. He'd thought  
that was the worst that could be experienced...but standing at Sara's bedside,  
looking down into her bruised, unearthly pale features...he was wrong.  
  
This was the worst.  
  
This was hell.  
  
Looking around, he pulled a chair close and sat down. "Hey..." His voice   
cracked, failing him, as he reached out to take one limp hand in his.   
  
He didn't know what to say. All the learning and all the experiences in his  
life and now, sitting at her bedside, he could think of nothing to say.   
Everything fled in the face of this.   
  
Grissom swallowed heavily, dropping his gaze. "I'm sorry." he said finally  
then flashed a strained smile. "I have no idea what I'm sorry for - exactly  
- but I'm sorry." He shook his head. "I wish...I wish..." He sighed heavily.  
"I wish I knew what to say here but...nothing...I don't..."   
  
He fell silent then, the lump in his throat seeming to cut off all possibility  
of speech and for the longest time he sat there, watching her face and willing  
her back to consciousness. If the human will could singlehandedly effect a   
recovery then Sara would be sitting up, glaring at him with that irritated   
way she had, wondering what all the fuss was about.  
  
But she wasn't.  
  
She was just lying there.   
  
Just...  
  
Another shuddering sigh.  
  
------  
  
The sound of a nurse moving about the room jolted him out of sleep and Grissom  
lifted his head from the mattress, where it had been resting against Sara's side.  
The young woman noticed the movement immediately and smiled. "Sorry." She   
murmured quietly.   
  
He waved it off. "Any news?"  
  
"There's been some slight improvement."  
  
"What about her test results?" Grissom pressed.   
  
The brunette paused. "I haven't seen them but I do think they're back...I'll  
tell the doctor you want to speak with him."  
  
"Thank you." He replied with a nod, his gaze returning to Sara's face.  
  
"Just keep doing what you're doing." The nurse encouraged with a smile. "I   
know it's cliche, but talking really does help. She'll respond to your voice."  
She waited for an answer but quickly realized one wouldn't be forthcoming   
and ducked out of the room, leaving them in privacy.  
  
"Talk." Grissom smiled faintly. "What do I say? Lately, when I talk to you,  
it always seems I say the exact opposite of what you need to hear." Reaching  
out, he entwined her fingers with his again; wondering who the action really  
comforted. Sara...or him?  
  
"It seems relating to people isn't my strong suit." He decided softly. "High  
IQ but low EQ...It's one thing I've always admired about you. You care so   
deeply and you've no problems expressing it, at least not when compared to   
me."   
  
He sighed again. "Somewhere there's a balance to be found. A place between   
control and emotionalism but neither one of us has found it yet..." Looking  
at her bruised face, he closed his eyes briefly in an attempt to shut out   
the pain. "Knowing you...knowing you has helped me to try." His smile   
returned, nostalgic but undeniable. "Knowing you has helped me to try a lot  
of things I never thought I would."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
TBC 


	3. Chapter 3

"Catherine." Jim smiled faintly as the CSI emerged from the elevator. "How's  
the investigation coming?"  
  
"Warrick's checking out the site, Nick's got the SUV, dogs have a scent but   
they haven't found the driver yet." She shrugged. "Business as usual." Her   
expression turned grave. "How's Sara?"  
  
"Touch and go."   
  
"Grissom?"  
  
"Hasn't left her side since he got here."  
  
The silence between them was thick and pained, both wishing there was   
something that could be done for their friend.   
  
"Hard thing to realize something when you may not have it anymore."   
  
Catherine nodded. "Deep down he knew, I think...he just...couldn't." She   
paused then added. "Have they moved her yet?"  
  
"Half hour ago." Brass affirmed. "I tried to convince Grissom to eat   
something while they were settling her in..."  
  
"But no dice." She smiled wryly. "Calling him stubborn would be making the   
biggest understatement in history."  
  
They shared a chuckle then silence reigned again.  
  
Finally Catherine lifted her head. "I should go talk to him."  
  
"You should." Her friend agreed. "He might listen to you."  
  
She snorted. "Not likely but we can dream."  
  
-------  
  
A soft knock and Catherine's murmured, "Gil?" drew his attention away from   
Sara's face.   
  
"Hi."   
  
"Hi." She smiled slightly, moving forward slowly, as if reluctant to intrude  
on the air of intimacy that seemed to hang around the woman on the bed and   
the man sitting at her side. It was as if the walls that always seemed to   
surround Grissom had been extended now to include Sara. No others need apply.  
"Any change?"  
  
He shook his head. "Any word?"  
  
She shook her head. "We'll find him."  
  
And they would. There was simply no other option.  
  
"Keep me posted."  
  
"Got your cell?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Then you'll be the first person we call." She affirmed. "Gil..."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"When was the last time you ate something?"  
  
He thought. "I don't remember. Lunch maybe?"   
  
It was the most logical choice. He hadn't had time to eat anything   
for dinner.  
  
Lunch...  
  
He'd had lunch with Sara.  
  
Not that he'd had much choice. He'd been working in his office when she   
burst into the door bearing take out and smiling at him.   
  
**"You missed lunch."  
  
"I did?"  
  
"Uh huh." Her hair moved with the nod. "Close up the file and make room."  
  
He gave her a knowing look. "Missed lunch too?"  
  
She flushed. "Guilty."  
  
He grinned. "What have you got?"  
  
"Pita bread stuffed with wild rice." She replied immediately, tugging a chair   
closer to the desk and setting things out.   
  
"A what?"  
  
"It's good." She assured him. "I love 'em. There's this great place a few   
blocks away that makes them."  
  
With a skeptical look on his face, he reached out to pick it up...  
  
"I got you the Bug Special." Sara informed him absently as she reached for  
her soda.  
  
"The what?!"   
  
A wicked grin touched her features. "I'm kidding!" She gestured about them.  
"I know you'd never be able to betray your friends."  
  
He chuckled. "Very funny, Sara."  
  
Her smile just widened. "Yes: It was."**  
  
"You have to eat something." Catherine intruded into his thoughts with a   
concerned look then forced a smile. "If you don't, Sara'll give you hell for  
days about it."  
  
He laughed slightly, intensely grateful for her choice of words. He was sure  
it was deliberate. "She will." He looked back at Sara. "Give me a minute?"  
  
"Sure." Catherine replied softly, inwardly cheering that she could at least   
offer him a moment's distraction. Sara would want it. Him sitting alone at   
her beside constantly would prove to be too much, even for Grissom. A moment  
or two away could make all the difference. "I'll go outside and call Nick,  
see how things are going."  
  
"Ok." He replied absently.  
  
When the door closed behind her, Grissom looked down to where his hand held  
Sara's tightly. "I won't be gone long." He promised. "But we both know they  
won't leave me alone until I go out for a minute or two." He sighed. "I'll   
ask Jim to come in, spend some time...." He stood, still unable to let go of  
her hand.  
  
He chuckled wryly. "I should probably let go, hmm?"  
  
A realization hit him and he looked down at her face through seemingly new   
eyes. "I don't want to." He swallowed. "Ever."  
  
The sound of Catherine's voice outside the door drew his attention and,   
after a moment's listening, he knew she was almost done with her conversation.   
"I'll be right back." He vowed then...after a long moment, Grissom leaned  
over to kiss Sara's forehead. "I promise."  
  
TBC 


	4. Chapter 4

"Stokes!"   
  
The sudden yell brought Nick's head up from beneath the steering wheel with   
a jerk, promptly connecting with the object in question. He cursed, his hand  
going to the smarting area as he backed slowly away, feeling tears of anger   
stinging at his eyes. Anger that had nothing to do with a bump on the head   
and everything to do with the friend that had been injured by the same vehicle.  
  
He blinked quickly, forcing the tears away. "Yeah?"   
  
A uniformed officer was approaching with a grim look of satisfaction on his  
face. "We got him."   
  
A matching look appeared on the CSI's face. "I'll call Brass."  
  
------  
  
Watching the man before her picking at his food listlessly, Catherine smiled  
wryly. "Y'know, Gil, the whole point of eating is to actually put food in   
your *mouth*."  
  
Grissom looked up, a wan smile sneaking about the edges of his mouth. "I'm  
aware of that." He sighed and put down his fork. "Sorry, Cath, it's just..."  
He shook his head. "I'm *here*," he gestured around them. "But I'm not."  
  
"You're back in that room." She affirmed. "I know; but you won't be any good  
to her if you don't eat *something*. The last thing Sara needs is to wake up  
and find out you collapsed from dehydration or exhaustion. You need to take  
a break and let yourself calm down. If you don't..." Abruptly she bit off   
the lecture and pushed down her maternal instincts. Gil was a grown man. He  
didn't need a mother. He needed a friend. "You can't be strong for her if you  
aren't strong yourself."  
  
"Touche." He acquiesced, forcing himself to lift a forkful of salad to his mouth.   
  
Under her watchful eye, he managed to put away half the large salad before   
speaking again.   
  
"Call in: I want an update."  
  
A more genuine smile touched Catherine's lips. That sounded more like the   
Grissom they all knew. "You got it, Boss." She joked, reaching for the cellphone.  
  
No sooner had her hand landed on it when it rang, surprising them both.  
  
Aware of his intense gaze watching her face, she answered.   
  
"Catherine, it's Nick." The other investigator didn't waste any time. "We got  
him."  
  
'I'll be right there." She replied immediately, thumbing off the phone.  
  
"They..."  
  
"Found him."  
  
-----  
  
Looking at her slim form, Grissom was torn. He didn't want to leave Sara's   
side. His instincts rebelled against the very thought but at the same time   
he wanted to see the suspect. Wanted to look into the face of the bastard   
that did this to her.   
  
The strength of his own reaction surprised him...but at the same time it   
didn't. Nothing it seemed had been normal for him since the moment he'd heard  
those fateful words come from Catherine. It was as if he'd suspended part of  
himself, going on autopilot only to discover a side of himself he'd thought   
long buried, or lost.   
  
Reaching out, he took her hand in his again as if weighing it, testing it,   
anchoring himself. "I need to see him." He confessed quietly. "I couldn't   
tell you why but...I need to see him."  
  
Sara didn't move, didn't speak, didn't show any sign that she'd heard him or  
even knew he was there but that didn't matter. He knew she'd understand.   
She'd been there.   
  
A wry smile touched his lips. "Looks like I'm getting a crash course in   
'Being Sara'," He noted, free hand reaching out to touch her limp hair.   
"I'm not very good at it. You...You should wake up and take over; I'll go   
back to looking at life through a microscope while you get exasperated with  
me for it."  
  
A soft knock on the door told him Catherine was ready to go. He looked over   
his shoulder reflexively. "I'm going to go see him then I'm coming straight   
back here." He chuckled. "Unless Catherine and Jim kidnap and try to force  
me into resting...Which, all things considered, I wouldn't put past them."   
He leaned over, intending to kiss her forehead again but his subconscious   
had other ideas and instead, his lips connected with hers.   
  
A clearly one-sided kiss yet the electric shock that raced through him was  
undeniable.   
  
Pulling back, he looked into her still face...full aware that no matter what  
happened next, things between Sara and himself, at least from his point of   
view, would never be the same again. And, to his surprise, he couldn't be   
happier.   
  
TBC 


	5. Chapter 5

Staring through the one-way glass, Grissom found himself fighting back a   
shocking surge of rage.   
  
"I'd ask how you're doing," Warrick's voice was grim as he walked in. "But  
the look on your face pretty much covers that subject."  
  
"I hate him." The older man said suddenly, his voice absent. "He's just a   
kid - a scared and stupid kid - but I hate him." He tore his gaze away from  
the teen to look at his friend. "I've never hated a suspect before; been   
appalled by them, disgusted, angry, even indifferent, but I've never hated   
one."  
  
Warrick digested this then summed it up in one sentence. "None of them ever  
put Sara in intensive care. This one did."  
  
Grissom's hands balled into fists and he had to consciously suppress the   
urge to explode into the other room and attack the young man. "He made it  
personal." He responded after a moment's thought. "I've always been able to  
keep a certain degree of distance, even when I was involved..."  
  
"When it's the person who means everything - distance is how far you have to  
go to kill the son of a bitch who hurt them." His friend replied bluntly and  
honestly.  
  
"That obvious?"  
  
"What? How you feel about Sara?" Warrick grinned. "To everybody but you, Sara,  
and maybe Greg? Though, to be honest, even he's starting to catch on."  
  
A shadow of his usual smile appeared on Grissom's face. "I'm beginning to feel  
like a cliche."  
  
"Yeah, well, believe it or not, it's a good thing."  
  
"A good thing?" Eyebrows rose. "How?"  
  
"You were blind to your feelings for Sara...proves your human, like the rest  
of us." He smiled. "That whole you always being right thing can get kinda   
wearing." Warrick watched his superior's eyes return to the interrogation   
room. He was losing him again. "Better get some of it out of your system now."  
He told him in resignation. "Letting it brew too long...it won't possibly   
turn out good."  
  
"Warrick! Grissom!" Greg seemed to appear out of nowhere, file folder in hand.  
"Guy's blood tests are back."  
  
He barely had the words out of his mouth before Grissom took the file.  
  
Flipping it open, he scanned the paper inside until his eyes lit on the number  
he'd been looking for. Reading it, his face darkened and, abruptly, he pushed  
by the young man.  
  
As he realized giving it to the CSI supervisor might not have been the best   
idea, Greg looked to a frowning Warrick. "Uh...oops?"  
  
-----  
  
Brass paused mid-question when Grissom stalked into the room and slapped the  
test results down on the table. Slowly, the detective slid the paper free   
and read it. "Well, Counselor, seems to me your client has a serious problem."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"His blood alcohol." Grissom gritted out through clenched teeth. "It's three  
times the legal limit."  
  
The kid glared back with teenage defiance. "So what?"  
  
"So what?" He echoed back. "So you nearly killed someone last night. You   
still might!" Reaching for his wallet, he fumbled as he pulled out the   
picture of Sara he kept there. "Her name's Sara. She's thirty years old and  
she's beautiful. She's a vegetarian, has a great sense of humor. Loves life  
and laughter and..." He closed his eyes and inhaled, uttering fateful words.  
"And I love her." Opening his eyes, he met the young man's. "Look at her   
face and think about it, you nearly killed her. She's lying in a hospital  
bed right now, non-responsive, bruised and beaten and it's *your* fault."  
His voice shook with uncharacteristic emotion and he straightened up. "Think  
about it....I hope whatever drinks you had were good. The price you're going  
to pay..." He trailed off, finding his rage draining away.  
  
"Gil..." Brass took the chance to stand, steering the other man toward the   
door. "I think you need to take some time. Depressurize."   
  
"I know. I know." He sighed heavily. "I'm going back to the hospital. Check  
on Sara."  
  
The detective nodded. "Take your time, grab some sleep, a shower maybe." He  
smiled slightly. "No offense, but you could use it."  
  
"Ha ha." Grissom replied dryly then paused. "Thanks Jim."  
  
He smiled. "She means a lot to all of us." 'But nowhere near as much as she  
does to you.'  
  
TBC 


	6. Chapter 6

-----  
  
"This isn't the hospital."   
  
At her friend's dry statement, Catherine looked over. "You need food, sleep,  
and fresh clothing. Not necessarily in that order."  
  
"What I *need*," he countered evenly, "is to get back to the hospital."  
  
Opening the door resolutely, his friend hopped out and walked around to pull  
him from the SUV. "You will get there...When I say so."   
  
He looked at the smile on her face and an expression akin to a scowl appeared  
on his. "You're enjoying this."  
  
"Oh yeah." She nodded, pushing him toward the building. "Believe me Gil, Sara  
will thank you for this...I know I will."  
  
-----  
  
The problem with running on adrenaline is that - like all fuels - it eventually  
runs out and Grissom's chose to run out halfway through getting dressed.   
Catherine left him alone to shower and shave while she made something for  
him to eat. Though he wouldn't admit it to her, staring at his reflection in  
the mirror, he needed the rest but he couldn't fight the undeniable pull to   
be at Sara's side. It was a physical ache that tugged at him constantly.   
  
Unfortunately it was an ache his body didn't have the strength to assuage   
and, when he sat on the bed to pull on his socks, he fell asleep.   
  
That was how Catherine found him...flat on his back, shirt half-buttoned,   
chest rising and falling in the deep and easy rhythm of sleep. With a smile,  
she set down his sandwich and milk on the nearest available surface before   
picking up a blanket and draping it across her friend. "Sleep well." She   
murmured in a whisper.   
  
------  
  
He dreamed of Sara. Dreamt of her in the way he always did. Whole, happy,  
and his. In his dreams, Grissom allowed himself to indulge in the feelings  
and desires he never let himself truly experience.  
  
This time it was a picnic.   
  
He didn't question the field of perfectly green grass. Such a detail was   
irrelevant to a dreamer. The only thing he was interested in was the woman   
leaning against him.   
  
"Look." Sara's voice was soft, the epitome of relaxation as she pointed at a  
butterfly flitting it's way across the bed of flowers a few feet away.  
  
Fascinated by the way the sun was hitting her dark hair, he barely gave the   
insect a second look but - as she expected - he voiced the exact name and   
origins with little thought.   
  
She laughed softly and turned in his arms. "Is there anything you don't know?"  
  
"A million things." He replied, skimming a hand over her hair, brushing it off  
her forehead.   
  
"Like what?" She pressed, her lips quirking into a teasing smile.  
  
"Why it's beautiful." His gaze found the butterfly once more and he watched it  
a moment before looking back to her face. "I can tell you what gives it the   
coloring it has, it's life cycle, everything about it, but I can't tell you   
why it's beautiful..."   
  
Sara sat up, folding her legs to one side. "That's just it, Gil, you don't   
*need* to know why." She reached out, a hand running along the side of his   
face. "You just need to know that it is. Some things you accept on faith."  
  
He captured her hand between his, lifting it to his lips. "Faith."  
  
"Faith." She nodded.   
  
"Faith's in short supply these days."   
  
"You can borrow some of mine." Leaning forward, she brushed a kiss across   
his forehead, then dropped one on the tip of his nose, before letting her   
lips hover near his. "When it comes to you, I have plenty."  
  
"Funny," He murmured, feeling her breath against his mouth, warmth tickling.  
"I was thinking the same of you."  
  
A burst of laughter escaped her as he caught her in his arms, falling backward  
with her.   
  
Their lips came together in a slow, leisurely meeting. It was the kiss of those  
who had forever, if only in dreams, and wished to experience every moment   
possible.   
  
But the body has no respect for the wishes of the heart and the need for   
oxygen drove their mouths apart, but by the most minimal of distances.   
  
"I love you." he told her between breaths, the words so easy to say when   
protected by the safety of the dreamworld.   
  
She smiled. A smile without any restrictions or pain, her face showing no  
sign of the trauma the real Sara had suffered. "I know." She started to return  
the sentiment but somehow, this time, he couldn't bear to hear it from an   
illusion. Not anymore.   
  
It wasn't enough.   
  
He wanted it from the real Sara.  
  
Nothing else would do.  
  
-----  
  
The room was dark when he woke.  
  
Squinting, he fumbled for his glasses then looked at the nearest clock,   
muttering an oath when he realized how much time had passed.  
  
Grissom sat up, the blanket he'd been covered in sliding to the floor, and  
reached out to turn on a light. He had to get to the hospital. He'd been   
away too long.  
  
Catherine appeared at the door and smiled. "Good, you're up. Eat and then   
I'll take you to the hospital."  
  
He opened his mouth to speak but she didn't give him the chance, closing the  
door again.  
  
Despite himself, he smiled at her behavior. Old friends never listened when   
it came down to it. Not unless they wanted to. "Immunity," he murmured   
quietly. "The cost of friendship."  
  
The sandwich and milk were devoured in record time and he rushed through   
dressing so much that he had to rebutton his shirt twice, missing buttons  
each time. He didn't care. His goal was seeing Sara again and a few buttons  
were irrelevant in comparison.  
  
------  
  
"Let's go."  
  
Catherine barely had time to register Grissom's presence in the room before  
her friend was striding past, intent on the door.  
  
Blinking, she swivelled and grabbed her jacket. "Ok..."   
  
As she followed him out of the room, Catherine allowed herself one small   
smile.  
  
"Welcome back, Gil..."  
  
---------- 


	7. Chapter 7

------  
  
"Mr. Grissom!" The doctor smiled widely as he and Catherine emerged from the elevator. "I was  
just about to call you!"  
  
Seeing the smile on his face, Grissom didn't even wait to hear what he was going to stay, making  
a beeline for Sara's room.  
  
The doctor turned to watch him go then laughed in amusement.   
  
"Doctor?" Catherine caught his attention and he turned to look at her. "How is she?"  
  
"Improving steadily." He replied with a smile. "The young lady is very determined. I haven't seen  
a patient respond this well to treatment in years. It's quite remarkable."  
  
"It's Sara." She countered with a smile.   
  
----  
  
The smile on her face was without a doubt the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.   
  
"Hi." She whispered faintly.  
  
"Hi." He replied simply, moving forward to sit down next to her.   
  
He didn't know what to say. These past few days, sitting at her side, he'd said so many things.   
Once he'd gotten started, it had been hard to stop. But now he was in the same place he'd been the  
first time he'd taken this seat. He didn't know what to say.  
  
Moving his hand slightly, he rested it on hers then turned it to rest her palm on his. "Has anyone  
come to speak to you yet?" The tone of his voice was that of a supervisor and he internally   
berated himself for the inability to voice what had come so freely before. Why couldn't he say   
anything?!  
  
"Brass." She watched the emotions playing across his face, unsure of what was going on behind that  
unreadable mask of his. Reading Grissom was rather like looking at an optical illusion. You had to  
let your eyes focus naturally, find their own path. Find the real Gil. "I don't remember all that   
much." Her eyes crinkled as she grinned. "Screech...bang...crash and fade to black. That's pretty   
much it."  
  
"They have the kid."   
  
"Yeah, he mentioned that." Looking down at their hands, Sara added hesitantly, "He also mentioned   
that you went off on him, said a lot of things."  
  
"He deserved it." Grissom replied with uncharacteristic vehemence then recalled some of what he'd   
said. "Exactly what did Jim repeat?"  
  
She smiled, looking through her hair at him. "A lot but little."  
  
"Can't have it both ways, Sara." He countered with a ghost of a smile.  
  
"Sure you can." She insisted stubbornly. "You just have to work at it."   
  
"What did he say?" He repeated.  
  
"Not much detail." Sara revealed with a smile. "He said you'd want to do that." Confusion entered   
her eyes at that. "May I ask what's so sensitive?"  
  
'Her name is Sara...and I love her.'  
  
"Everything." Grissom replied simply.  
  
----  
  
"He's acting different."   
  
At Sara's frustrated words, Warrick looked up. "Who?"  
  
"Ecklie." She glared at him. "Grissom, who do you think?! He's been acting different."  
  
"Define different." Her friend hedged, not wanted to 'out' Grissom if the older man hadn't done so  
yet himself.  
  
Sara's knowing eyes searched his face then she shook her head, wincing at the action. "Like...I   
don't know, like he's the only one the room who knows a secret." Watching his expression, she   
smiled faintly. "Or maybe, I'm the only one that doesn't."  
  
"Sara...." He shook his head. "I can't...Gris'd...well, he needs to tell you this one himself."  
  
"Can I at least have a hint?" She pressed, leaning forward.  
  
"No." Warrick denied, holding firm. "If Grissom didn't kill me, Catherine would."  
  
"Catherine?" Sara's brow furrowed in confusion. "What does she have to do with what Grissom's   
hiding?"  
  
"Nothing." He replied quickly. "But you know how she gets when she's protecting Grissom. The old   
friend thing."  
  
"Yeah, the old friend thing." She echoed skeptically, puzzled by everyone's secrecy. To hear them  
talk, you'd think they were protecting a matter of national security or the fate of the world.  
  
Little did Sara know, her thoughts were paralleling her friend's. Warrick was determined to keep   
Grissom's secret, at least until Grissom himself was ready to voice it, and thereby protect the   
balance of his friends' world. The relationship between Sara and Grissom was very much like a   
house of cards and it was one that Grissom had been tending for a long time, one that he guarded   
ferociously, and if this wasn't handled right...   
  
Warrick dismissed the thought with a faint smile. That was the one thing that wouldn't happen. No  
matter what went down between them, Sara and Grissom were inseparable, at the center of   
everything. Contemplating that, he leaned back in his chair. It was something they all took for  
granted, barely noticed even. At some point, Sara and Grissom had taken up position as the center  
of gravity for the team, everything moved around them and connected back to them.   
  
"Ok," Sara interjected into his thoughts with a frustrated tone. "What's *that* look for?"  
  
He grinned at her. "Nothing."  
  
"Warrick!!!"   
  
His grin widened. "Good to have you back, Sara." Pushing out of the chair, he touched her shoulder  
lightly and moved out the door, leaving her to stare after him with an aggravated expression.  
  
----------  
  
tbc 


	8. Chapter 8 Final Chapter

------  
  
  
"She's going to figure it out sooner or later."  
  
Warrick's voice brought Grissom out of his own reverie and he turned to see the younger man  
standing before him. "Figure out what?" He countered as vaguely as possible.  
  
"What's going on here." Sitting down, Warrick leaned forward to stare into his friend's face.   
"She's already starting to suspect something's not right." He held up a hand to forestall any   
comments. "Let me rephrase. She's starting to figure out that something *is* right and frankly  
man, I think you should tell her up front." He smiled. "You know Sara, if she figures it out on  
her own, there'll be hell to pay."  
  
Grissom smiled wryly. "Don't I know it." Leaning back, he rested his head against the white of   
the wall and stared at the ceiling. "I just can't seem to make the words cross my lips." Belatedly,  
he added. "While she's conscious at least."  
  
"So go in there, tell her to close her eyes, and pretend she isn't."   
  
"Funny."  
  
"Who's kidding?" Warrick returned smoothly. He waited until Grissom's gaze met his before he   
continued. "Whatever you gotta do to tell her man, you've gotta do it. This can't go on." He   
exhaled heavily, surveying his hands for a moment before looking at his friend. "Think back...to  
the minute you saw Catherine standing in that doorway...the instant you heard what'd happened...  
Think back to that moment and remember how it felt. Remember how it felt to wonder if you were   
ever going to get the chance to tell her the truth. She survived this, Gris, she's in there   
waiting to hear what you've got to say. There's no guarantee that the next time, if there's a next  
time, that she'll be ok. Or, if the situation's reversed, that you'll be ok and get the chance to   
tell her. There're no guarantees in this life, you take what you get. You got a second chance,   
yeah, but don't count on a third. The world doesn't work like that."  
  
After some moments, moments heavy with silence, he pushed to his feet, patted the other man on   
the shoulder and walked away. There was nothing left that could be said. No more advice to be   
offered. This was Grissom's moment of decision and the only voice he had left to listen to was  
his own.  
  
-------  
  
She was asleep when he opened the door. It was so easy to envision how she'd looked when he'd   
first walked into the room, clinging to life, wan features, bruises sharp in contrast against   
her pale skin. The spectre of that first sight hung over him and for just a second he could   
imagine that her return to consciousness was an elaborate daydream that he'd cooked up while   
on a coffee run. A fanciful wish that had yet to be realized.  
  
He took a step closer to the bed and she stirred slightly, banishing the haunting thought.   
Keeping his movements as quiet as possible, Grissom sank into the chair next to her and reached  
out to take her hand in his.   
  
"Grissom?" Her voice, huskier than usual with sleep, reached out to caress his ears and he looked  
at her, a smile faint on his face.   
  
"Yes?"  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"A moment of clarity." He answered softly. Her brow furrowed and she began to open her mouth,   
intending on questioning his words, when he stopped her with a gesture. "Moments of clarity are   
very rare, Sara, and just as fleeting is the courage to speak that comes with them."   
  
Sara recognized the plea for what it was and settled back, content to just listen for once.   
  
"When Catherine came to my home...told me what had happened...to you." He forced out the words,   
that awful moment replaying itself in his mind as it had when Warrick had asked him about it. "My  
world came crashing to a halt." He swallowed quickly, an action that gave him momentary shelter.   
"I understood then something I hadn't before...Exactly what it was you meant....to me. Not as   
just..." he hesitated, a brief smile touching his lips. "Not just as one of the best investigators,  
one of the most brilliant scientists, I've ever seen but...as Sara." His voice was rough with   
tears. "I thought I'd lost the most important person in my world and..." He swallowed again as if   
he could force back the emotion with that determined gesture. "I think it almost killed me."   
  
"Gris..." This time, she made the plea, and he smiled, bringing her hand to his lips. "What...what  
exactly are you trying to tell me?"  
  
An almost boyish grin lit his features. "I'm doing that bad a job, hmm?"  
  
Sara couldn't resist returning the grin, he was absolutely unrefusable like this. "Well, it all   
depends on what job you're doing." She teased softly.  
  
"I'm delivering a report." He told her, his grin gentling. "On a experiment conducted in the   
hallway."  
  
"What kind of experiment?" She prompted, her lips settling into something akin to a loving smile.  
  
"An analysis of my emotional state over this entire...incident. I've made some shocking  
discoveries." A rueful light entered his eyes. "Shocking, apparently, to only me. It seems, to   
everyone else, the results were readily available."  
  
"A scientist makes the worst subject."  
  
"I thought that was doctors make the worst patients?" He lifted a brow.  
  
Sara waved a dismissive hand. "Same concept, different arena. Now...about those findings?"  
  
"Ah, yes, those." Grissom nodded once. "Well, it seems, Sara that I am entirely and undeniably   
in love." Her breath caught and she stared at him, as if unable to believe what he was saying.   
So, just for clarity and mischief's sake, he added. "With you." He stood, perching himself on   
the edge of the bed, looking down at her. "And, I feel compelled to reveal that when you were   
unconscious..." Caught up in a spirit of playfulness that surprised him, he added. "Well, I'm   
afraid, I have to say I kissed you."  
  
Her mouth rather inelegantly dropped open and somewhere, a part of her mind that she deemed   
responsible for certain smartmouthed comments she was prone to make noted that it would be   
typical that Grissom would make this kind of declaration while she was lying in a hospital   
bed in an old pair of pjs Catherine had brought in for her with her hair in dire need of a   
good washing. "You...and I *missed* it?!" She shook her head. "That...well that sucks!"  
  
Her exclamation brought a chuckle from him. "It would probably be a very good idea," he   
continued on as if she hadn't spoken. "If I were to make restitutions."  
  
"Restitutions?" Sara stared at him, dumbfounded, and decided that Gil Grissom was having  
*way* too much fun at her expense. "What kind of restitutions?"  
  
"Well..." He leaned over, tucking a hair away from her cheek with one finger. "I probably  
should kiss you again...while you're conscious before we talk about restitutions. That way  
you can decide just how great an injustice was done and just exactly what I'll need to do   
to make amends."  
  
Her lips curved into a welcoming smile and her eyes danced back and forth between his lips  
and the very impish look that was directed at her from his own mirthful gaze. "Mmhmm...well...  
I think that probably would be the best idea. I mean, I can't really be offended by something  
if I don't remember how bad it was."  
  
"Bad?" He began to protest but Sara surprised him, sliding a hand up to grab his collar and   
pull him down. Surprisingly strong considering her recent accident, she pulled him off balance  
and he only just managed to save himself from crushing her. He didn't have a chance to comment  
on the action as his subconscious again hijacked his body and willingly submitted him to Sara's  
control. A heartbeat later he decided his subconscious had the right idea. He also decided that  
kissing a conscious Sara far exceeded kissing an unconscious Sara.  
  
The scientist in him quickly took note of the feel of her lips moving against his, the taste of  
her, the sound she made when the kiss deepened. The man in him took note of the same things but  
gloried in them instead of cataloguing them.   
  
It took everything in him to draw away from her extremly tempting mouth and, when he did, he was  
somewhat surprised to discover that his glasses weren't fogged. With the heat that he was   
convinced had been generated by their kiss, he'd half expected to need miniature wipers installed.  
"So...restitutions?" He managed to ask hoarsely while trying remember exactly how breathing   
worked.  
  
Sara licked her lower lip lightly an action that seemed to send his brain's higher functions  
into complete hibernation and allowing other, more baser instincts to demand his attention.   
"Hmm....I think I deserve at least several dinners."  
  
"Dinners..."  
  
"Yeah..." She smirked. "Very intimate ones. Home-cooked I think."  
  
"That can be arranged..." He agreed after a moment.  
  
Her fingertips migrated up the material of his shirt, occasionally straying inside and brushing  
the skin of his chest. "I think a tour of your place should go in there too...oh, and one more   
thing."  
  
"Which is?" He questioned.   
  
"You make me breakfast...every morning."   
  
"Deal." Grissom agreed wholeheartedly, bending down to kiss her again. "This could be a problem."  
He murmured against her mouth.  
  
"What could be?" She prompted, a hand tangling in his curls, holding him to her.   
  
"This strange attachment I've developed for kissing you."  
  
Sara grinned, the action tickling against his lips. "Strange? Exactly what's strange about it?"  
  
He skimmed his lips across hers, savoring the contact. "That I never developed it earlier..."  
  
"Mmmhmm..." She nodded. "That is something we have to look into. A long-term research project...  
don't you think?"  
  
Grissom pulled back slightly to look down into her face. "I think you're right. It will take   
several experiments at least."  
  
"I concur." Sara affirmed with her best scholarly voice. "We'll start as soon as I get out of  
here." She pushed herself up on the pillow and looked at him. "Speaking of, when can I get out   
of here?"  
  
"When the doctor says you can." He answered patiently. "And not a minute before."  
  
"But..." She frowned only to have Grissom cut her off with a kiss. He really was getting addicted  
to them.   
  
"Sara?"   
  
"Mmhmm..."  
  
"For once? Don't argue with me."   
  
"Well..." She sighed. "Just this once. But don't expect it to become habit."  
  
"Wouldn't dream of it." He countered softly, kissing her again.   
  
"No?" Sara's eyes danced with mirth as he lifted his head again.   
  
"No." He smiled. "I have better dreams than that."   
  
"You do?" Curiosity warred with her amusement and she resisted the urge to ask until she couldn't  
help herself. "And what do you dream about?"  
  
In the blunt, honest delivery he often used, he quietly replied, "You." And then, with Sara as   
it's axis, Grissom's world began to turn.  
  
Finis 


End file.
